The Course Of True Love Never Runs Smooth
by WeasleyQueen
Summary: This story tells of how Harry found true love after the final battle. But who did he find true love with?
1. The Beginning Of Something Beautiful?

_First off the usual disclaimer. Anything you recognise, I don't own. AKA the characters. I've tried to put my own twist on their personalities but not so much that you won't recognise them. The whole storyline was an idea I got because of...a fanfic contest! I was going to do this as a songfic to Sugarcult - Memory but my fingers typed away and changed my mind for me!_

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Harry sat there watching the drink in his glass. It jumped and moved as the music pumped around the room and in his ears. He was so deep in thought that he didn't even notice a rather attractive woman asking him to dance. When he ignored her she flounced off to the crowd of eager waiting young men. Harry's focus turned to a stain on the bar top, he watched it intently. As though waiting for it to move. Would he finally fix his mistakes? Would he ever get the girl? He sat there and reflected on the past month. It had so much more pain, heartache and fear in it than any of the times he'd faced Voldemort.

She had looked so beautiful, standing there in the doorway. She wore a light cotton summer dress, the dusky yellow colour of the dress contrasting perfectly with her hair colour. The artificial lights reflecting off of her hair, like the sun reflecting off a pool. She had smiled and his heart had lifted. That smile could always make his day better, even though it took him years to realise it. He managed a half smile in return as she walked quickly towards him, resisting the urge to run. She lent over his frail figure as he lay in the bed.

"Welcome home." She whispered. Oh how he'd missed her these past few months. He had been preparing himself for the final battle; she was working as a healer. Learning from Madam Pomfrey. He breathed in her scent and it intoxicated him, like always. She smelt of strawberries. She kissed him gently on the cheek; even this slight physical contact brought a blush to his cheeks. The sight of his red cheeks brought a giggle from her lips.

"Same old Harry." She said with a soft smile. She stroked some of his ragged hair from his face as he watched her with intent eyes. She always knew what to say. Back in his sixth year he'd turned to her to help him through the loss of Sirius. She was at first like a sister to him, then more. So much more. She was his Venus, his Aphrodite, his one true love. Now maybe he could finally tell her. He opened his mouth to speak but she put a gentle finger to his lips.

"Sshh.." She told him quietly. "You need to rest." She smiled slightly and that was the last sight he saw before his eyes closed. He dreamt of her, like he had done for the past year or more. At first just because it kept away the nightmares, then because he finally came to understand the full capacity of their relationship. A relationship that had started during seventh year, Ron had been more than a bit upset at first but had come to realise that they were meant for each other.

When he awoke three days later he was almost completely healed. This was when the formalities started. He'd seen his friends and mentors, the ones that remained alive. Now it was time to be seen in the public eye, to do meet and greets with different ministry officials. Although it bored him greatly he plastered a smile on his face, the thought of seeing **her** again keeping him going. But he didn't see her again for over a month. He was opening a new wing in St Mungo's and there she was, her hair in a messy, disarray around her heart-shaped face. A shiver ran through his body on seeing her. She smiled briefly in his direction before excusing herself from her colleague and going to see him properly. He swept her into his arms and kissed her fervently. The on-looking crowd smiled and cheered. In an interview after his recovery he'd told of how she was the reason he kept going. Camera's flashed all around them as they stood there, oblivious to everything except each other. She smiled into his shoulder and let a sigh escape her lips. Perfection, he thought, that's what this is.

"I've got to get back to work." She murmured to him as she reluctantly started to pull away.

"Go out for dinner with me, tonight." He whispered into her ear. She nodded and he could see her eyes glistening with happiness as she pried herself from his grasp and went back to her work, glancing over her shoulder a couple of times. He watched her go and he still stood there long after she was gone from his sight. The minister coughed quietly to bring Harry back to his senses. He apologised to the media and continued to give his small speech about the new wing he was opening, a grin fixated on his face.

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_Well if you're reading this then you've obviously read what I posted. Thanks for reading, PLEASE review!_


	2. The Dinner Date

_Ok well here goes chapter two. I reall enjoyed writing this chapter, which you will probably think is weird after you read it! _

_Disclaimer: I don't own any of these marvellous characters, they're all JK's!_

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That night Harry sat waiting nervously as he watched the clock tick the minutes past. He had already showered twice and changed his outfit a dozen times.

"You're acting like a right girl." Ron had told him with a laugh as he headed out to meet up with his girlfriend. Upon hearing that comment Harry had decided to not change his clothes again. In a fleeting attempt to pass the time he went into the bathroom. He knew he would lose this fight but decided to try anyway, he looked at his face in the mirror. Time for some hair damage control, he thought, as he tried to flatten it. Soon though he let out a sigh, this was one battle he could never win. He walked back into his living room. It was decorated in the traditional Gryffindor colours of red and gold. With maroon wallpaper complimenting the golden sofa and soft-looking wooden floorboards. Harry looked at the clock on the wall and saw it was, finally, time to go meet his date for the evening. He grabbed a handful of floo powder and stepped into the fire.

"Diagon Alley!" He called clearly, after his first experience with floo-powder he was very careful now. A roar of green flames enveloped him and soon he was tumbling out of one of the public fireplaces in Diagon Alley. He stood up quickly and dusted the soot off of his forest green robes, his charcoal trousers and white shirt. His head jerked sideways as he heard a familiar twinkling laughter. He turned his whole body to face her, the woman he loved. She was wearing a dark blue robe over a floor-length denim skirt and a dark green shirt. A shirt that matched his robes perfectly. He hugged her tightly.

"Oi Harry! Let me go, you're squashing me!" She told him and hit him lightly on the arm.

"Sorry love." He said and loosened his hold on her. He led her away from the busy fireplaces and down the main stretch of Diagon Alley. The place looked breath taking at night. With many of the shops closed there weren't as many people there. Small lights were dancing in the air, sort of like the ones at the Yule Ball Harry noted. Soft music wafted through the air from the various restaurants they pasted as they strolled down the street. Harry headed towards the restaurant that he had booked a table at. The owner was extremely obliging to him and was going to give them a very private booth. He led his date inside and they were shown to their secluded table. The whole place was lit by soft candlelight that was enchanted to flicker but never die. The whole atmosphere of the place was one of love and peace. Music could be picked for your particular booth to make the feel of the whole evening and meal more personalised.

The couple sat down and received their menus. They sat talking quietly about trivial things as they looked through the menu. They ordered and that's where things went downhill. As they waited for their meal they talked about everything under the stars. Harry was just building up the courage to tell her how he felt when a shrieking voice reached his ears.

"Harry! Dahling!" The voice said and they both turned to see who it was. The body behind the voice soon appeared. It was none other than Clare Reimont. Harry had dated her back in his sixth year; she was only a fifth year then. She was a Hufflepuff but an extremely sly one.

On that evening she was wearing a flimsy red robe which hung loosely on her shoulder, as she hadn't bothered to fasten it closed, over a tight red dress that clung too close to her skin. The low-cut top of the dress showed way too much cleavage to be acceptable and it ended much higher than mid-thigh. Her brilliant blonde hair, which was once short and neat, was now flowing in lustrous waves down her back. Harry grimaced inwardly at the sight of her; he didn't think he'd ever see her again. She instantly launched herself onto him, smothering him with kisses that he was less than eager to receive.

"I haven't seen you since you came back. It's been too long dahling." She told him as though he'd been on a trip, not fighting the darkest wizard known the magic-kind. She plopped herself down next to him. She smiled insincerely across the table at his companion, remembering her from Hogwarts. She quickly turned her attention back to Harry and started talking about some utter nonsense to do with her and some of her friends going shopping for a muggle-style ball to celebrate Harry's defeat of you-know-who.

"I think you mean Voldemort." Harry's date said cattily, interrupting Clare. "I can't believe you're still scared to say his name!" She scoffed. Clare cast a critical eye over her.

"Still trying to impress him I see." She said, her hand indicating towards Harry when she said him. "Don't worry your not-so-pretty little head about him hunny. He's way out of your league and way **into **mine." She glared at the young woman across the table. Harry could sense the tension between the two. Neither girl was backing down.

The next thing he knew he was being kissed, at first the kiss was rough and callous then it softened as the woman kissing him put her hand behind his neck to pull him closer to her. It's got to be her, Clare wouldn't dare do this, not to me; he thought. So he snaked his arms around her waist and pulled her onto his lap, kissing her with equal passion. Pouring all of his love into that one kiss, he didn't even notice the heartfelt sob or the whispered goodbye of the other person as she ran out of the restaurant, tears streaming from her eyes.

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_So? What did you think? Come on, tell me!_


	3. What!

_This chapter is kinda short, it's a bit of a filler between the last chapter and the next.._

_Everything is still Jo Rowlings..._

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When they finally broke apart he rested his forehead on hers. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, preparing to tell her how he felt then open his eyes to see her startling green ones looking back at him.

"I love you so much. Will you make me the happiest man alive and marry me?" He whispered softly and he opened his eyes. But rather than seeing the perfect green eyes he imagined he saw a pair of harsh blue ones, Clare's. She smiled in a sickly sweet fashion at him.

"Oh I've been waiting so long to hear you say that! Yes, of course!" She cooed and kissed him again. Then she leapt up from his lap and called out to everyone within hearing distance.

"I'd just like to tell you all that I, Clare Reimont, and Harry Potter are engaged!" She exclaimed. Photographers and reporters rushed over to her as she went back to the booth they had been sat in. As they bombarded her with questions Harry sat there staring at the flame from the candle. How could I let this happen, how could I be fooled like this, he thought as he placed his head in his hands. He faintly heard people congratulating him and Clare kissing him on the top of his head.

"I need to get home.." He muttered to himself. He went to stand up and saw everyone looking at him. He couldn't leave; he was surrounded, about to be attacked from all sides. He was trapped. The only way to get out was to answer their questions, he knew this. So he plastered a fake smile on his face and turned to the reporters as Clare shifted herself closer to him. Over the course of the next hour he answered a continual flow of questions.

He only escaped when he said he had to see Ron about Quidditch try-outs, or something like that. He didn't even know what he was saying; the blood was pounding in his ears. He stood up and without even a backward glance at Clare he pushed his way through the crowds and out of the restaurant. He walked, as quickly as he could get away with, to the fireplaces and flooed quickly to the apartment he and Ron shared. As soon as he stepped out of the fireplace he knew this had been a bad idea. There, sat on the sofa, crying in Ron's arms was **her**, the woman he thought he'd been kissing.

"She always coming running back to me, you should know that by now!" Ron growled fiercely.

"It's not what it looked like Ron, honestly." Harry protested uselessly.

"Not what it looked like? You kiss her, and now the WWN says you two are engaged. You were on a date with another person! Harry how could you!" Ron said as he clenched his fists. Harry could see Ron was resisting the temptation to punch him.

"I can't take this right now. I'm going to bed. Maybe we can talk when you're willing to hear my side of the story!" Harry said angrily and stormed off to his bedroom. He threw himself straight onto his bed, letting a single teardrop fall before he fell into a fitful sleep.


	4. The Morning After The Night Before

_What's going to happen next in the drama of Harry's life you ask? Well you'll have to read on to find out. R&R!_

_You know Rowling owns it all, do I have to keep saying it! scowls hehe_

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By the time he woke the following day it was already bright outside. He glanced at his clock and saw it was 11am. Ron would be at training now. Harry opened the window of his room to cool it down. He grabbed a towel and headed to the bathroom. He shed the night before's clothes and dumped them in a heap on the floor. He stepped into the shower, the water at a blistering temperature. He stayed under the water for what seemed like an eternity, part of him hoping he'd drown in the falling droplets. To him they were like droplets of his anger, he let them seep out. When he eventually stepped out of the shower he felt no better than when he went in, he just felt more awake and remembered more of his problems. He dried his body off and tied the towel around his waist. He padded out of the bathroom and down the hallway to his room. The sight he saw when he entered was one that completely shocked him.

His floor and bed were covered in letters, and by the look of it some howlers. There were flowers, stink bombs and lots of other things, every one more creative than the last. Harry's face went pale at the sight and smell. He quickly grabbed his wand from his dresser and performed a cleaning spell before running from the room, slamming the door behind him. He rushed into the living room of the apartment, and started pacing.

"Why did this have to happen to me? This is just my luck!" He muttered to himself. Suddenly there was a flash and Harry spun quickly to see a wizard with a camera outside the window. That wizard had just got a picture of him pacing, in just a towel. He's eyes went wide in shock before they narrowed, all his anger towards Clare was going to be relieved, now. Harry raced over and yanked open the window.

"What are you playing at? Ever heard of privacy? You have no place to be here!" He roared at the photographer, who went pale and mumbled something as his broom slowly descended towards the ground. Harry watched the man's broom to the ground, but he couldn't reach the ground. The whole area outside of the building was covered in witches and wizards, all reporters by the look of it. As soon as they saw Harry they started yelling up to him, asking for comments and interviews. Harry groaned and slammed the window closed. This was not a good start to his day. He walked over to the coffee table and picked up his muggle organiser, Ron thought it was stupid but he liked knowing where he was going being written down all in one place. He thumbed through the pages until he reached that week; he was totally free for three days now. Time to re-cooperate the publicist had told him, maybe start writing a book or something. To which Harry laughed, he was not going to write a book, not yet anyway. His life had just started as far as he was concerned, and everyone already knew what had happened so far in his life anyway. He sighed as he chucked the organiser back down on the table and collapsed onto the sofa.

Harry closed his eyes and rested his head against the back of the sofa, he let his mind wander away from his troubles. Back to a time when his biggest worry was Voldemort, someone who seemed a lot easier to handle than his current problems.

Flashback

Harry was sat in the Gryffindor common room, it just before curfew and lots of people were just coming into the common room so they wouldn't get caught out after hours. As he looked around the room he saw his best friend Ron sat playing chess against Seamus, who was intent on beating his friend and had been practising for weeks. He chuckled and continued looking around the room. He saw Hermione's bushy head crouched over a table, as far away from the noise of the common room as possible. Obviously studying for her NEWT's again like she did regularly, even though there were still a good few months to go till the exams. A giggle of incessant laughter could be heard entering the room and Harry turned to see who it was. He saw Ginny and some of her sixth year friends entered the room. Suddenly she turned and smiled at him, he smiled back, feeling himself blush. She excused herself from her friends and went to sit with him.

"You look a bit lonely. Where are Hermione and that dear brother of mine?" She joked, a twinkle in her eyes.

"Ron is beating Seamus at chess, for about the sixth time this year. And Hermione is studying, for the NEWT's, again." Harry said, as though both things were the most obvious thing in the world. Ginny glanced at both of them before turning back to Harry.

End of flashback

Harry remembered that night, they had sat talking for a while more before Ron joined them, dragging Hermione with him. The four of them sat up late talking about trivial teenage things. Nights like that had been one a few rare escapes for him, escapes from the truth of what one day he would have to do. The only other outlet he really had was Quidditch, and even that was taken away from him to a certain extent. He was always watched, he felt like a naughty child or some sort of psychopath who would do something crazy if not watched all the time.

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_Aww poor Harry, reminiscing over times gone by.._


	5. What To Do Next

_And on with the show.._

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A loud pop brought Harry back to his senses, he looked around him but the room was just how it had been. He frowned as he drew his wand and stood up, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end.

"How could you do it to her Harry? I just need to understand." A familiar voice called from the kitchen. Harry headed into that room of the apartment and saw his red-headed best friend sat at the counter, his eyes boring into Harry as soon as he stepped into the room.

"I didn't mean to Ron. Honestly I didn't." Harry muttered almost inaudibly as he lowered his wand and went to sit by his friend.

"You're my best friend Harry, you really are mate and you're like a brother to me. I just need to know what happened; I need to know your side of the story. I know sometimes I jump to conclusions and I'm trying hard not to do that here." Ron sighed as his face softened with the need to know what had happened the night before. Harry smiled slightly when Ron said he was like a brother to him, that meant more than the red-head would ever know.

"It was all so mad Ron. And the strange thing is the night started out so perfectly.." Harry started. For the next hour or so the two boys conversed about the night before. Harry told his side of the story only to be bombarded with questions from Ron. Eventually the two boys reached the conclusion that, somehow, Harry had to get out of this engagement that he had unwillingly put himself into.

Just at that moment there was a flurry of wings outside the kitchen window and they both looked up to see which one of their birds it was. But when they looked it wasn't Pig or Hedwig. It was a dark brown owl, quite large, and it looked rather annoyed to be left gliding outside the window of their apartment. Harry jumped up to let the bird in and took the letter from its leg, while Ron offered the deliverer a couple of owl treats that he greedily took.

As Harry ripped open the letter his heart sank into his stomach.

"Ron..Ron!" He called out, his friend was immersed in feeding the owl. He looked up as Harry called his name, a look of puzzlement on his face.

"It's from her..it's from Clare." He groaned and brandished the letter under Ron's noise. "Read it Ron. I can't face it." He said and flopped onto the sofa. Ron cleared his throat and started to read.

"_Dearest Harry._

She's started on the mushy stuff already!

_I have missed you immensely since last night. I can't wait to start planning the wedding and was hoping we could converse over lunch. I know the most adorable little restaurant off the back of Diagon Alley. They serve fabulous food and it's lovely and quiet. We won't be disturbed. I really hope you can make it, as we need to talk about a lot of stuff. Including when you'll meet my parents, my mother is just dying to meet you!_

_Love,_

_Clare_

Well that was one of the funniest letters I've ever read. My mother is dying to see you again aswell Harry. Maybe you can pop round for tea!" Ron chuckled as he passed the letter to Harry and sat down. Harry quickly skimmed over the letter, which was written on scented paper. Clare had dotted her i's with hearts and put a lot of kisses at the end.

"Ron I think we need to call in re-enforcements." Harry said seriously as he put the letter on their coffee table.

"And I know exactly who we need. Give me two minutes." Ron told him, a sneaky smile on his face. He stood up and disapparated. As he watched his best friends disappear Harry sighed and stood up aswell, he went through to the kitchen and made himself a mug of coffee, the muggle way. Sometimes doing stuff the muggle way just took his mind off of things. He stood in the kitchen drinking until he suddenly heard numerous 'pop's coming from the living room. Harry put his mug down and headed into the other room. As he entered he saw numerous people surrounding him, all talking amongst themselves.

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_Yayness for people helping Harry! And double yayness for people who review!_


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